From Freya Van Daalen's Perspective
If the journey to that cursed cavern — the ancient tomb of the Green Moon Lich — had been marked by a strange, almost ritual silence filled with glances that spoke louder than words,
the trip back was a completely different kind of silence.
An awkward one.
Heavy.
Uncomfortable.
Freya walked a few steps behind Alessio, watching the way he followed the twisted forest trail.
The sound of his boots against the damp ground broke the still air — the only reminder that life still existed there.
She didn't know what to say.
Didn't even know where to start.
Every time she thought of opening her mouth, the words evaporated before reaching her tongue.
And from the way Alessio walked — hurried, straight, avoiding even looking at her — she could only imagine he felt the same.
They both knew there was a lot to say.
But neither had the courage to begin.
And so they walked.
One after the other, beneath ancient trees, the distant hum of insects mixing with the whispering wind through the leaves.
Still… things weren't the same as before.
Not anymore.
Somehow, everything had changed.
Before, she would've easily lost herself in that forest.
Every path looked the same; the tree shadows stretched like hands trying to confuse her, and the wind's song distorted distance and direction.
Without Alessio, she would've wandered for hours — maybe days — and never found her way back.
But now… that was impossible.
She smiled faintly as she realized it.
Perhaps she hadn't noticed at first, but something deep inside her had changed.
With a quick motion, she opened her system menu and pulled up her status bar.
Letters and numbers appeared before her eyes in neat, translucent lines:
Name: Sith — The Lioness
Title: —
Class: Warrior
Affiliation: None
Strength: 14
Intelligence: 5
Vitality: 12
Agility: 20
Freya let out a low whistle.
Even knowing time had been distorted during the trial, it was hard not to be impressed.
Her stats had skyrocketed.
Not only because of the new gear — but because of the Essence now burning within her.
She slid her finger down the panel, and golden text expanded before her eyes:
Essence: Blood of the Lioness
You have proven yourself a born huntress — one made to chase and kill.
Your instincts are unmatched in the wild.
From now on, you are the one who hunts — a true predator.
Effects:
At each level, you gain:
+1 Vitality
+1 Strength
+2 Agility
Passive Effect — The Huntress's Scent:
If you smell something, you'll never forget it.
And you will always be able to trace its origin, no matter where you are.
She read the description once. Twice. Three times.
A slow smile spread across her face.
"Well… at least there's one good thing about all this," she murmured to herself.
The idea of having a flawless sense of smell was strangely comforting.
It wasn't just an attribute bonus — it was an instinct, one that reconnected her to what she'd experienced in the trial, to that primal, feral version of herself.
And, at the same time, it was a promise of safety.
She took a deep breath, letting the forest air fill her lungs.
Every scent split into layers — the damp earth, decaying wood, moss on the stones, even the faint metallic tang of Alessio's armor ahead of her.
But there was something else.
A smell she would recognize anywhere.
The scent of her children.
Even now, miles away from where they'd been left — in the city of Durnholde — she could still sense them.
Faint, soft, nearly blended into the forest air, but unmistakable.
A deep instinct told her that no matter the distance or the time, she would always know how to find them.
The realization made her smile again — small, tired, but genuine.
The fear of getting lost — of losing them — was gone.
She closed the panel with a swift motion and kept walking, eyes fixed on Alessio's broad back ahead.
The silence was still awkward, yes…
But for the first time, it wasn't empty.
Because now, Freya Van Daalen — Sith, the Lioness — knew she could follow her own instincts.
Even if the world collapsed around her, she would always find her way home.
That's when Sith felt it.
A familiar scent.
So sharp and sudden it made her stop on the spot.
The wind blew softly, carrying the humid aroma of the forest and the metallic trace of dried blood staining her clothes — but beneath it all, there was something else.
Something that didn't belong there.
It was alive.
Intense.
Heavy with sweat, leather, oil, and iron.
A smell she could never mistake.
Players.
Freya frowned, her instincts sharpening as if something primal had awakened once again.
The huntress's scent came alive effortlessly — invisible particles in the air forming mental maps inside her mind.
She could almost see the smell, tracing paths and directions.
Three familiar presences… and more unknown ones.
Coming from the north, slowly descending the hillside.
The wind carried details — fresh steel, worn leather, and the sour tang of human nerves.
They were armed.
And close.
She inhaled deeply and looked ahead at the man before her.
"Damn…" she muttered under her breath, too quiet for him to hear.
"We've got company."
Her voice broke the silence — low, rough, and firm.
There was no room for doubt.
Alessio stopped immediately, the sound of his boots ceasing all at once.
He turned to her, the look behind his helm holding that familiar mix of curiosity and caution.
He didn't answer — he simply waited, body already shifting into a defensive stance, shield lowering slightly.
She watched him for a moment and almost smiled.
He didn't ask "who" or "how many."
He just got ready.
It was instinct — pure and natural — and one of the few things she genuinely admired about Alessio Leone.
Freya inhaled again, filtering the air.
The scent grew stronger with every breath.
Not beasts.
Not undead.
And definitely not villagers.
That's when she realized — going home would come with one last obstacle.
With a resigned sigh, she adjusted the spear strapped to her back, fingers tightening around the worn leather of its grip.
Her gaze swept the forest, measuring shadows and cracks, every rustle of leaves, every breath of wind.
It all fit together in a single, clear pattern: they were surrounded.
She opened her mouth to explain — to warn Alessio of what was coming, the direction, the distance — but she didn't have to.
The intruders announced themselves.
A sharp crack tore through the air, followed by hurried footsteps over branches and stone — the unmistakable clatter of metal against metal.
And then came the first human voices, echoing through the forest, mingled with muffled laughter.
They weren't even trying to be quiet.